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<title>Where is the Wonder by IgnotusSomnium</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25333267">Where is the Wonder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnotusSomnium/pseuds/IgnotusSomnium'>IgnotusSomnium</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Inherent Romanticism of Dragons [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Changelings, Child Abuse, Fae &amp; Fairies, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Menstruation, Trans Male Character, minor exposed to sexual behavior</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:00:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25333267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnotusSomnium/pseuds/IgnotusSomnium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Vangelis was very young when he was taken by the fae to sing for them at the Court.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Inherent Romanticism of Dragons [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Where is the Wonder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title is from Nightwish's "I Want My Tears Back."</p><p>Please mind the tags. The sexual content is not explicit, but it is there.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Jonathan’s first memory was of the day he was taken. He couldn’t remember it clearly. He was very, very young. Mostly he remembered that the name they called him felt right, felt real in a way that the name his parents called him never did. Nowadays he couldn’t remember that old name. It didn’t matter anyway. The beautiful fae lady had called him <em> Jonathan Vangelis </em> and held out her hand. He’d taken it. Then she had taken him away to a beautiful palace where pixies flitted through the air like birds, and the very air smelled sweet. She gave him the most delicious pastries he’d had in his life and told him this was his home now. </p><p>They didn’t treat him badly at first. His occasional outbursts were met with amusement more than shouting and slaps. If he broke anything, though, they would say his Name in just the right way. <em> Jonathan Vangelis, </em> they would say, cold and calm, and he would freeze where he stood. And then he would stay frozen there until they remembered to let him go. </p><p>Sometimes they forgot for days.</p><p>The beautiful woman didn’t actually do the hard work of raising him. She would play with him sometimes, casting spells to make him beautiful toys out of leaves and feathers. She had a laugh like a high chime, and when he was very little he wanted nothing more than to make her laugh all the time. When she stopped laughing it meant playtime was over, and he went back to his room. If he needed things - bathing, food - the brownies took care of it, and they did not laugh. They barely spoke. </p><p>After a few months, possibly - time was strange in the Court - the beautiful woman started asking him to sing. He had a beautiful voice, she said. Pure and charming, just like he was. She told him she loved when he sang. That was why she had brought him here in the first place. So Jonathan was happy to sing for her, to make her smile and dote over him. </p><p>That didn’t last. He was a child, after all, and he got bored with singing all the time. His throat started to hurt, he got tired, he got hungry. And eventually the beautiful woman - who now told him to call her Duchess - stopped praising him so much. She brought in another fae to teach him how to sing better. The new fae was a relentless teacher. He would force Jonathan to sing for hours, the same things over and over again, and whenever Jonathan complained he would just say his Name in that way that froze Jonathan solid. </p><p>One day he was allowed to see the Duchess again. She asked him to sing. When he did, perfectly, she simply nodded and told the teacher, “Good” before leaving. </p><p>That was the first time he sang at a party.</p><p>There were other humans there, but they refused to talk to him. They were all adults, and they looked wan and dead-eyed. When a fae called for a song, the adults began to play their instruments or sing automatically. Their songs were beautiful, but the adults were like hollow instruments themselves. Jonathan didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, as he had to sing himself. Sometimes the fae pulled the musicians away to join them privately. Jonathan tried very hard not to think of what might be happening to them.</p><p>The party went on for three days and nights.</p><p>This was his life for years and years. Every so often the Duchess would play with him, or absently praise him for being charming and sweet and talented, and he would soak it all up desperately. Then she would send him back to the teacher who worked him to the bone. When he could absolutely sing no more, he slept. And every few weeks, there were the parties. Some were only three days. Others stretched on for a week, where the fae danced and drank and fucked and Jonathan sang until he passed out.</p><p>At some point Jonathan realized he was getting older. His body was changing in ways that felt wrong. He asked the brownies once, when he woke up in pain and bleeding, why this was happening. </p><p>They dragged him before the Duchess on her throne. Jonathan had never seen her looking so resplendent or so disappointed. She wore an elegant white gown that seemed to be made of hoarfrost. It was delicate and shining. Her face was beautiful even in a frown. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Jonathan. It seems it’s time for you to go.”</p><p>The way he froze then had nothing to do with his Name.</p><p>“Go? Where? Your Grace,” he managed to stammer out.</p><p>She stood up and strode towards him, graceful and perfect. “Back to the human world, my pet.”</p><p>“But why?” he begged, “I’ve been good! I can still sing!”</p><p>“Not the same way, pet. Soon your voice will begin to change. It’s inevitable. But don’t worry, I won’t leave you empty-handed.” She put her hand under his chin, tilted up his head, and kissed his forehead. The cold rushed through his body all at once. Jonny couldn’t hide his gasp. “There. I can’t undo what you were born as, but I can help you become who you are. You will be given some human coin. After that, you’re free.” She smiled, sweet and empty. “You should be grateful, Jonathan. Most of our pets never go home.”</p><p>Jonathan didn’t know what to say. He was cold. He was scared. </p><p>Her eyes narrowed. “Say ‘thank you,’ <em>Jonathan </em>.”</p><p>“<em>T</em><em>hank you </em>.” The words were forced out of his mouth. </p><p>She smiled. “Good boy. Enjoy your life, dear.”</p>
<hr/><p>Four weeks later, Jonathan found himself at a tavern. He’d run out of his coin from the Duchess days ago. Early on he’d stolen a set of clothes made of wool rather than butterfly scales and cobwebs, and he’d made a handful of coin by singing for people on the road. He was halfway certain this was near the town where he’d been born, but it had been so long he couldn’t really remember.</p><p>The tavern was busy and warm. The tables were packed with rowdy guests, except for one. There was a spot open next to a tall, scraggly-looking girl with brown hair.</p><p>“This place free?” he asked, in the human language.</p><p>She peered at him suspiciously. “Yes.”</p><p>One of the tavern workers stopped by and took his order of bread and water. She looked annoyed at him, but coin was coin. If nothing else he could sing for his supper. At least until his voice started to change. </p><p>After an awkward silence Jonathan decided to ask the girl, “You’re from near here, right?”</p><p>In the end, he didn’t find his family. What he did find was his twin.</p>
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